Chapter 36 – Family Counseling

Chapter 36 – Family Counseling

 

Liria serenely floundered. With flawless dignity and poise.

No. Why are you doing this to me? she screamed inside her mind.

The guest room was warm and tastefully appointed.

Silk drapes softened the afternoon light into a pale gold glow. A low fire crackled in the hearth, its warmth gentle and steady, scented faintly with cedarwood. The furnishings were arranged with careful symmetry. Cushioned chairs faced one another across a polished table, a porcelain tea set resting untouched at its center.

She was seated at the center of it all. Between husband and wife. Between fury and grief. Between reason and… whatever this had devolved into.

She was smack dab in the middle of a domestic dispute, playing mediator.

How did this happen to me?

“You did not respect my will at all!” Lady Selina flared. Her green eyes blazed, bright with anger and wet with unshed tears.

“I was trying to save you…” Lord Caspian ran a hand through his dark hair, fingers catching slightly as though even that small motion carried frustration.

“You chained me up!” Selina’s voice cracked, rising sharply as her hands clenched at her sides.

“You were trying to kill yourself!” Caspian shot back. His restraint snapped, the words bursting out of him with raw force.

The room seemed to tighten around them. The air felt heavy, thick with the residue of months of fear, guilt, and grief that had never found release.

“No matter your excuses, what you did to me was unforgivable!”

Selina turned sharply toward Liria. Tears shimmered in her eyes, catching the light.

“Isn’t that right, Lady Liria?”

How should I know? Don’t drag me into this!

Inner Liria clutched her head in despair.

Outer Liria inclined her head slightly, her expression softening with effortless grace. “I feel your pain,” she said gently. “It must have been so hard.”

“It was,” Selina whispered. Her anger cracked, splintering into something raw. “My husband… my husband…”

Her voice broke completely. A sob tore free as her shoulders shook.

“I trusted him to do what was right. I trusted him more than anyone. And he…” She pressed a hand to her mouth, as if trying to contain the flood. “He betrayed me.”

And why are you telling me that!? Inner Liria protested. What am I, your mother?

“There there,” Outer Liria murmured.

She rose smoothly from her seat and stepped forward, drawing Selina into a careful embrace. The fabric of Selina’s dress was cool against her hands, but the woman herself trembled with heat and grief. Liria gently patted her back in slow, steady motions.

“Let it out,” she said quietly. “Holding onto it will only make it heavier.”

“Mother. Great Mother,” Selina cried into her shoulder, clutching at her robes like a drowning woman grasping driftwood. “My husband! He chained me up! He tempted me to fall into sin! Scold him for me, Mother!”

No. No. Absolutely not. Why am I your mother now?

Liria’s thoughts spiraled.

Even counting my past life, I’m barely thirty! You’re older than me! I’ve never even dated!

“Hush now” she said aloud, smoothing a hand over Selina’s hair. “You are safe now. The worst has passed. You can move forward from this, Selina. I believe you can.”

“Talk some sense into her for me, Divine Mother,” Caspian groaned, pressing his fingers to his temple.

Lord Caspian, not you too!

She felt something inside her crack.

Liria was mad. Liria wanted to throw a tantrum. Preferably on the floor. Possibly with kicking.

She was far too young for this.

“I only wanted her to live,” Caspian continued, his voice tight. “Just long enough for us to find a cure. That was all. And we did find one. We endured until you arrived.”

“You got lucky,” Selina snapped, pulling back just enough to glare at him through tear-blurred eyes.

“Luck is part of survival,” Caspian replied, jaw set.

“You were making eyes at your own mother! I saw it!” Selina accused, her voice rising again.

“I was enthralled! Hypnotized! Not in my right mind!” Caspian roared, color flooding his face. “Can we not talk about Camilla?”

“Of course we must talk about Camilla!” Selina fired back. “She ran off with our daughter! If you hadn’t indulged her—”

“If I hadn’t indulged all of you,” Caspian cut in, his teeth clenched, “we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You would be dead.”

The room fell into a brief, brittle silence.

Liria stared serenely ahead. Inside, she reconsidered every life choice that had led her here.

“Mother, look at this man!” Selina pointed accusingly. “He’s not sorry at all!”

“Divine Mother,” Caspian said, forcing his voice into something steadier, though strain still lingered beneath it. “I did what I believed was necessary. I admit I misjudged Camilla. I should have been more cautious. But I will not pretend that trying to keep my family alive was wrong.”

Then, as if by some unspoken agreement forged over years of marriage, they both turned to Liria at once.

Their voices overlapped perfectly.

“Divine Mother! Please help me talk some sense into that man!”

“Divine Mother! Please help me talk some sense into that woman!”

Liria felt the world spin.

Oh Goddess. Just kill me now.

A faint, crisp sound interrupted her spiraling thoughts.

*Crunch*

It was small, almost delicate. Yet in that moment, it sounded impossibly loud.

Liria’s gaze drifted past the arguing couple.

And then something inside her snapped.

Seris stood near the window, bathed in soft light. She was watching the entire exchange with rapt attention.

While eating a cookie.

Crumbs dotted the front of her dress. A faint smear lingered at the corner of her mouth. The half-eaten cookie in her hand suggested this was not her first.

Or her second.

Possibly not even her third.

Liria smiled a warm, benevolent smile.

“Noble paladin, holy priestess,” she said, her voice carrying a solemn weight that immediately drew the couple’s attention. “I understand your need for guidance. But it is not my place to judge you.”

They quieted, drawn in by her tone.

“You are followers of the Goddess of Justice and Judgement. And the Saintess of Light stands among you.” Liria inclined her head slightly, directing their attention behind them. “Sometimes, the answer to life’s most difficult questions can be found in the simple clarity of a child’s heart.”

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it’s taken without the author’s consent. Report it.

The cookie slipped from Seris’s fingers, hitting the floor with a soft thud.

She stared at Liria in stunned betrayal, her mouth opening slightly.

A faint flash of light followed. The fallen cookie and every crumb vanished without a trace.

By the time Caspian and Selina turned around, the Saintess of Light stood there in perfect composure. Hands folded. Expression serene. Not a trace of indulgence remained.

Liria pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Her little sister really was too cute.

Though…

A faint crease touched her brow.

Seris took her role very seriously. Too seriously, perhaps. The rigidity of her posture did not quite suit someone so young.

A hint of concern stirred in Liria’s chest.

She is trying too hard. From where did she learn to act like this? Wouldn’t she burn out at this rate?

Liria had only wanted to tease her little sister a little. If Seris faltered, even slightly, she would step in immediately.

Seris looked up at the couple.

“Lord Caspian. Lady Selina,” she said, her voice hesitant but firm, “I think… you are asking the wrong question.”

They exchanged a glance. The edge of their anger dulled, replaced by confusion.

“Lord Caspian,” Seris continued, “you only did all that because you love your family. Right? More than your honor. More than… anything else.”

Caspian blinked, caught slightly off guard. “Yes. That is true, but—”

Seris turned before he could finish, as though she might lose her nerve if she let him keep talking.

“Lady Selina,” she said, her voice softer now, “you wanted to die because you thought you were a burden. You didn’t want him to keep suffering because of you. You wanted him to… to be free.”

Selina’s lips parted. Her fingers tightened around her dress.

“That’s…” She hesitated. “It’s not just that—”

“I know,” Seris said quickly. Then she paused, as if realizing she had interrupted, and added in a smaller voice, “I mean… maybe not all of it.”

She took a breath.

“You can’t really hide it from me,” she said, more quietly now. “I’ve… felt something like that before. When everything hurts, and nothing gets better, and you start thinking it would be easier if you just… weren’t there anymore.”

Her fingers twisted together for a moment before she forced them still.

“I don’t like that feeling,” she added, almost in a small mumble. “It’s scary.”

The room softened around her words.

Seris lifted her head again, trying to look composed.